On a clear, bright and crisp morning, in February, on one
of those Barbar Streisand on a "Clear Day, You Can See Forever", Joyce
and I headed out on the Highway, looking for adventure, whatever would
come our way, with my Cousin Laurie Watt, from New Orleans, where
above all else, we found out that the streets close down on Wednesday
at midnight on Mardi Gras, where Cinderella's coach would turn into a
Pumpkin, without the horses or the Henchmen, just the day after Fat
Tuesday, and the way they measure the success is by how many tons of
trash they collect.
Often times on the way to our destination we take a few
shots so everyone can feel some emotion, and today, the Lucy in the
Sky with Diamonds view was the emotion of the day, so a shot just
before the 580 offramp to go to the Richmond Bay Bridge, a few shots
of the Golden Gate Tunnel and one of the skyscape looking thru the
suspension spans of the Golden Gate gave you a little meterological
whiplash as we entered ourselves into the "City". Along with those
images, a quick view of a new tunnel just before we got a shot of the
dome at Fort Mason, which Joyce took a nice verbal swing that it could
be a future "Smart Train" tunnel finished off our Tales of Power
rolling into the Hilton on O'Farrell Street.
Once we found our way into the parking garage, and into
the elevator down to the Lobby on the 3rd floor, I had the desk ring
up Laurie in her room, and she was down post haste. The Glads were
great, so a shot of those, some plastic food and plastic cupcake
displays on the way to Kuleto's rounded out the brisk walk for our
Culinary Extravaganza.
We actually got there before they opened and spent some
time in the bar, downing a few drinks and talking about our trip on
the Rhine, a few quick quips about family and relatives, and off we
were to the culinary racetrack. For those of you that want to browse,
www.kuletos.com is the link you want to mess with. The three of us
posed for a picture in front of the fireplace which I had seen on the
web, and settled in first with a round of appetizers. We placated a
few whimsical nuances with a typical calamari, which was fresh and
light. Then some Carppaccio with cannelonii white beans and some
grilled shrimp, sausage and polenta, which both Joyce and I thought to
die for, though Laurie had no clue as to what Polenta was, and then to
fill in some kaliedoscope eye arrangement, we dabbled in a trio of
roasted beet salad surrounded by a ring of arugula, though it came as
a suprise that Laurie, again, not that she didn't know what beets
were, but that they were on her list of no-no's, not one from beeting
a political drum, but since childhood they were not on the list of
culinary fare for herself.
Not that you would want to hold your breath in
anticipation, but next we each partook of a main dish. Laurie got
what the waiter suggested which turned out to be fetticinne in a white
sauce, and I had a ribbion pasta with a duck bolognaise, and Joyce
indulged in some beautiful and lavscious grilled eggplant, and away we
went, tiny bubbles and all, into cavalcade of flavor profiles too long
to describe, but let it be known, that it wasn't just the first pass
of delight, but they all seemed to linger until we ran headlong into
the wall of desserts.
For our dessert entourage we indulged in three
glorious past times, the first being a Tiramisu, that we had never
seen before, an Apple Creme Brulee and one of my favorites, a
Chocolate Mousse Torte, which Laurie, and if I told you the effect it
had on her, I would have to kill you, so just let it be said she was
quite a satiated woman after that experience.
On our way back to the Hilton, we stopped into a
hotel, Hotel Nikko, and I couldn't find a website, so your just gonna
have to find it yourself, which her boss at work in New Orleans had
done some or all of the interior decoration inside, and he had
intimated to Laurie that it was sort of like Alice in Wonderland
decor, being oversized, so I took a few pictures, but to no scale,
since we didn't sit in them and take a picture. I can tell you that
the blown glass planter in the window with the curtains had to be at
least nine feet tall, so let your imagination run wild. I do think we
all came to the conclusion that there was a little Alice going on, and
the pills that mother gives you don't do anything at all, go ask
Alice, when she's ten feet small.
So, as the day started to cloud over upon descent
from our meal and our visit with Laurie, remember, from New Orleans,
and started to look as if some rain was soon going to be within our
midst, if only by the stroke of Midnight, and again Cinderella is
starting to mellt, not the wicked witch of the north, by any means,
this is Steven, the cavalier intruder into your religious escapades or
your serene nap on a perfect memorial Sunday, leaving no stone
unturned, or any pond ripples ingnoring their future fortunes, live
long and prosper in the wake of your Dreams, Child
of those Barbar Streisand on a "Clear Day, You Can See Forever", Joyce
and I headed out on the Highway, looking for adventure, whatever would
come our way, with my Cousin Laurie Watt, from New Orleans, where
above all else, we found out that the streets close down on Wednesday
at midnight on Mardi Gras, where Cinderella's coach would turn into a
Pumpkin, without the horses or the Henchmen, just the day after Fat
Tuesday, and the way they measure the success is by how many tons of
trash they collect.
Often times on the way to our destination we take a few
shots so everyone can feel some emotion, and today, the Lucy in the
Sky with Diamonds view was the emotion of the day, so a shot just
before the 580 offramp to go to the Richmond Bay Bridge, a few shots
of the Golden Gate Tunnel and one of the skyscape looking thru the
suspension spans of the Golden Gate gave you a little meterological
whiplash as we entered ourselves into the "City". Along with those
images, a quick view of a new tunnel just before we got a shot of the
dome at Fort Mason, which Joyce took a nice verbal swing that it could
be a future "Smart Train" tunnel finished off our Tales of Power
rolling into the Hilton on O'Farrell Street.
Once we found our way into the parking garage, and into
the elevator down to the Lobby on the 3rd floor, I had the desk ring
up Laurie in her room, and she was down post haste. The Glads were
great, so a shot of those, some plastic food and plastic cupcake
displays on the way to Kuleto's rounded out the brisk walk for our
Culinary Extravaganza.
We actually got there before they opened and spent some
time in the bar, downing a few drinks and talking about our trip on
the Rhine, a few quick quips about family and relatives, and off we
were to the culinary racetrack. For those of you that want to browse,
www.kuletos.com is the link you want to mess with. The three of us
posed for a picture in front of the fireplace which I had seen on the
web, and settled in first with a round of appetizers. We placated a
few whimsical nuances with a typical calamari, which was fresh and
light. Then some Carppaccio with cannelonii white beans and some
grilled shrimp, sausage and polenta, which both Joyce and I thought to
die for, though Laurie had no clue as to what Polenta was, and then to
fill in some kaliedoscope eye arrangement, we dabbled in a trio of
roasted beet salad surrounded by a ring of arugula, though it came as
a suprise that Laurie, again, not that she didn't know what beets
were, but that they were on her list of no-no's, not one from beeting
a political drum, but since childhood they were not on the list of
culinary fare for herself.
Not that you would want to hold your breath in
anticipation, but next we each partook of a main dish. Laurie got
what the waiter suggested which turned out to be fetticinne in a white
sauce, and I had a ribbion pasta with a duck bolognaise, and Joyce
indulged in some beautiful and lavscious grilled eggplant, and away we
went, tiny bubbles and all, into cavalcade of flavor profiles too long
to describe, but let it be known, that it wasn't just the first pass
of delight, but they all seemed to linger until we ran headlong into
the wall of desserts.
For our dessert entourage we indulged in three
glorious past times, the first being a Tiramisu, that we had never
seen before, an Apple Creme Brulee and one of my favorites, a
Chocolate Mousse Torte, which Laurie, and if I told you the effect it
had on her, I would have to kill you, so just let it be said she was
quite a satiated woman after that experience.
On our way back to the Hilton, we stopped into a
hotel, Hotel Nikko, and I couldn't find a website, so your just gonna
have to find it yourself, which her boss at work in New Orleans had
done some or all of the interior decoration inside, and he had
intimated to Laurie that it was sort of like Alice in Wonderland
decor, being oversized, so I took a few pictures, but to no scale,
since we didn't sit in them and take a picture. I can tell you that
the blown glass planter in the window with the curtains had to be at
least nine feet tall, so let your imagination run wild. I do think we
all came to the conclusion that there was a little Alice going on, and
the pills that mother gives you don't do anything at all, go ask
Alice, when she's ten feet small.
So, as the day started to cloud over upon descent
from our meal and our visit with Laurie, remember, from New Orleans,
and started to look as if some rain was soon going to be within our
midst, if only by the stroke of Midnight, and again Cinderella is
starting to mellt, not the wicked witch of the north, by any means,
this is Steven, the cavalier intruder into your religious escapades or
your serene nap on a perfect memorial Sunday, leaving no stone
unturned, or any pond ripples ingnoring their future fortunes, live
long and prosper in the wake of your Dreams, Child
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